Patris et Filia
by Inks Inc
Summary: Tough as they come she may be, but every girl needs her father and Ziva David is no exception. But when blood is nowhere near as thick as water, it is not Eli David she clings to. Ziva/Gibbs - Father/Daughter. WARNING: Post-Spanking fic. *One-Shot*


He held the silently sobbing Ziva in his arms and felt his heart splinter. The daggers of pain just kept on coming. He'd been thoroughly hard on her, but he'd had no choice. Her coffin had very nearly become his current woodworking project. He'd warned her, he really had. No surveillance operation. It wasn't in their jurisdiction. But the case had hit home hard for Ziva, as any case with a struggling migrant did. Pair that young girl, alone in new country, with a historically abusive father and Ziva would not be contained. She had snuck out of his house where he'd quarantined her, for her own good and went to the meeting she suspected was afoot. On instinct, Gibbs had felt her absence and in the middle of the night had raced to find her. She was woefully outgunned and out-numbered, taking every ounce of his sniper training to get them both to safety. That being bad enough, NCIS' showing-up had jeopardized a massive FBI operation and Tobias was still puce with rage.

He pressed his face into her hair as the shirt covering his right shoulder became saturated with tears.

There was something off. He'd had much less experience in deploying his unorthodox methods with Ziva, particularly in comparison to the other three, but he could just _tell_ her tears were from more than her thoroughly chastened backside and all that went with it. It was only his third time disciplining her with a firm hand across her backside, upended his knee, but he already knew her tells. And this…this steady sobbing was more than the expected after spanking release. For a moment, Gibbs was panic stricken. He had warned her, and then he'd had to follow through, but that didn't make using the heavy wooden hairbrush any easier. Had he been wrong? Had he been too hard on her? Her weeping wasn't relenting an inch and for Ziva, who loathed emotional displays as much as him, that was positively alarming.

He carefully peeled her face away from his shoulder and looked down in clear concern.

"Ziva…talk to me. I know you're hurting, but this is more than that. What's going on with you?" His voice was gentle but it carried over her racking sobs. She shook her head wildly, her hair sticking to the tanned face from sweat and tears. He brushed it gently away and tipped her chin upwards softly. "Don't even try Zi, I know when there's something else going on. Talk to me. Tell me what it is." At the sound of her affectionate nickname, the big brown eyes suddenly welled with even fresher, saltier tears and Gibbs became, if possible, even more alarmed. He kept a tight hold on her, careful to keep her stinging behind from pressing against his leg as he cradled her on his lap. His lip was chewed in anxiety as she threw her face into his shoulder and began sobbing anew. "Ziva," he tried again, desperately, "Please, kiddo….talk to me. Was I too hard on you, is that it?" He nudged her gently. "Is that what's the matter?"

To his horror, her sorrow only ramped even higher in response.

Just when he thought he couldn't get any more anxiously confused and bewildered, she spoke. In staccato bursts of misery laden coughing, but spoke nonetheless. "It…it is….just…." She trailed off hopelessly, spluttering out a watery sniffle before trying again. "I cannot understand it. How you are like this…I do not understand it. I try, but I do not." Gibbs felt his brows sail into the clouds. "Like what?" he asked immediately, not knowing if wanted the answer or not. Like an asshole? Like a jerk? What was she talking about? She buried her head further into his shoulder and he carded a hand through her thick hair reassuringly, knowing that she would never permit such tactile displays of affection in normal circumstances. She didn't answer for a moment and his anxiety levels peaked once more, but again, her muffled voice prevailed.

"Kind."

Well…that was unexpected.

Gibbs frowned in confusion at the mass of tangled hair hiding her face. "What do you mean, Zi? I don't know what you mean." She chewed her lip, unseen. "You should be angry with me. I disobeyed you and nearly got us both killed. You should be furious, uncontrollably so. But you are holding me….you are being kind. And I cannot understand it. It is not right. You should not be so…you should not be like this….you should be angry, very angry…not kind…" The bottom of Gibbs' stomach nearly fell out as the damning pieces fell into place. He immediately wrapped his arms tighter still around her slim frame and held her close. She was comparing his disciplinary technique to that of her father's and that alone made Gibbs itch for his gun and some quiet time with Eli David. But he had more important things to attend to her, she was more important. Much more important.

"Zi…I need you to listen to me. Ok?"

She nodded silently, her hair tickling his chin.

"The reason I use the… methods I do to keep you four on the straight and narrow isn't just because it keeps your records clean. And it isn't just because I'm a mean son of a bitch. I tan your butts; even though I hate it, because once it is done…it is _done._ The slate is wiped clean. Whatever it is that landed you over my knee is forgotten about, finished with, it's in the past. We never speak of it again, unless you want to. I do not hold grudges Ziva, not with you lot. You did something wrong, yes. You know it and I know it. But you've been punished for it now, you've paid for it. It's over with and it's done with. That's why I can hold you like this, because we are back to normal. Well….as normal as any of us have ever been." He hesitated for a moment, but pushed through the embarrassment he felt, knowing she needed to hear it all. "And…holding you close helps me as well. I can't stand the sound of you crying kiddo. Of any of you crying and I can't bear being the one to cause any of you pain. But sometimes, that's my job and I have to. But when I'm done doing what I have to do, it helps _me_ to get over it by helping _you_ to get over it."

He pulled her gently from his shoulder and looked down at her intently.

"You understand what I'm trying to say?"

She looked up at him with such shock that whatever was left of his heart smattered in two.

Had that piece of filth really never uttered _a single_ kind word to his own daughter?

There was silence as she regarded him. Her crying had abruptly ceased, but her eyes were red rimmed and her face water logged. He brushed a stray, slowly falling droplet away as she pondered him deeply. "It really helps you?" she asked softly. "You really… _need_ to feel better?" Gibbs nodded without hesitation, his natural ability to be more openly affectionate with his girls' than his boys' an asset in that moment. "It really does," he confirmed. "When you get your own team…or kids, you're gonna learn that it ain't all that easy to be the bad guy. Sometimes you gotta take your crumbs of comfort when you can get them. Even if they come from the most unusual of places, you gotta take them."

She absorbed all this silently, her eyes wide.

Suddenly she reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek, before snuggling contentedly back down into his arms where he sat on her commandeered bed in what was once his perfectly functioning guest room. He looked down at her in surprise as the dramatic shift in her body language unfolded. She visibly unwound and he didn't need to see her face to know the drawn, bewildered look was gone. "You are a good man," she mumbled into his chest, "Perhaps we do not tell you that often enough. But you are a good man. Kelly…she was a lucky little girl." Gibbs felt his heart constrict as the name of the daughter he had lost tumbled from the lips of the daughter had had gained. He pressed a kiss atop her head in answer and slowly stroked her back, feeling the sleepiness radiate through her as he suspected it would.

"What do you say to getting back into bed and actually staying there this time?"

His voice was light, breaking the emotional tension and she responded with a soft, teasing punch to the chest. "I think I can manage that." Snorting, Gibbs stood and expertly managed to deposit a very sleepy Ziva back into the drawn back sheets with ease. She winced as she landed heavily on her scorched behind and shot him a baleful look. Shrugging unapologetically, he pulled the covers up and around her as she nestled into the pillows. She looked at him, stricken by a sudden thought that he could see coming a mile away. Moving the water beside her bed closer to her, he shook his head with renewed sternness. "You can bet your bottom dollar you're grounded missy. Two weeks. From here to work and nowhere in between." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth in unsurprised dismay. "Don't worry; you'll have a cell mate." He frowned and backtracked quickly. "Well, more of a prison pal cos' there's no way in hell Tony's sleeping in here. But he _will_ alsobe partaking in the Correctional Facility of Gibbs for two weeks, starting tomorrow. With or without a sore behind, I haven't decided yet."

Ziva's quizzical look was met with a gaze of paternal know-how.

"You really think I don't know that he lied to me to cover for you? Dream on kiddo, dream on."

…

A/N: I realised my stories are Gibbs, Tony and Tim – Father/Son heavy. Decided to through a bit of Ziva and Gibbs – Father/Daughter into the mix. Random One-Shot.

…


End file.
